|Posted on November 9, 2015 at 5:35 PM|
I never really know when it happened....
That fleeting moment between feeling like your life is moving forward quickly , to realizing the calling that has been placed on your life and suddenly everything is standing still.
To the blissful ignorance of free living with no care, and choosing to shove off responsibility, whirling around in a downward spiral. Some spirals lasting longer than others.
Transitioned to holding the well being of a life in your arms, long days, even longer nights. And that heaviness.... Yes, you know this feeling too. Don't you?
I talk of this heaviness often, and most say that I always seem sad by this mentioning.
Really, I am glad. For I know now that I have been seen, heard, corrected.
Before putting my life in the palm of unworthy hands and allowing anything to leech away the little bit of self preservation and respect I had.
To now, treasuring my life because I have the calling to devote it to others, to give it away, to breath out on others.
I shake my head at who I was before. Lost and desperate for that uniqueness that drowns us all, that deception in the misshapen mirror
I have my glory and it seeps from with in me because my heart is now not my own.
So how long will it be? For me to embrace the quiet. The empty house with the whispering breath of my toddler sleeping.
I feel like I am standing still often. Waiting for someone to walk in my front door.
Longing for friendship or maybe even a distraction from the rawness of the realization, that my neediness, is nothing to run from
Never did I think that planting myself in rich soils would be so much pain.
But I realize that in order for roots to take, they must rip from the flesh of the seed.
Reaching out and filling the space of the pot just to realize that there really is no limitation to how far these roots can spread.
I am desperate for that presence that breathes life into these thin strings, and thickens the roots made from a seed that once was dead.
The blossoms spring forth without even noticing and the seasons come and go. Petals falling and then again forming a precious white bloom.
The flow of being planted in soil fertile and secure, means only that there are certain times of bloom
To Bloom, as some say "Where you are planted" makes it seem by some random chance. But each seed is specific for the soil that it must reach.
Sourced and cared for before it even meets the Earth
The time from then to the eb an flow of the bud, mans simply this... There must be a gardener tending to the shrub.